


Snake in the Ass

by objectlesson



Category: Wildboyz RPF
Genre: M/M, Rimming, awkward bro sex, wild life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-04
Updated: 2013-01-04
Packaged: 2017-11-23 14:54:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/623390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/objectlesson/pseuds/objectlesson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A stunt turns into a rim job. Chris is not sure how.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snake in the Ass

**Author's Note:**

> I can’t believe there isn’t more fic about these dudes. They’re so adorably gay together. I don’t own them; this definitely never happened, though everything but the sex is a very plausible Wildboyz set up. Oh, also, this is probably only funny if you watch the show. It’s written very much in the style of their horrible monologues.

They were in Texas, and the plan was to have the snake bite Steve-o’s ass. Then Chris would suck the poison out. iIt would be hilarious because it was two punches for the price of one: 1. Snake bite 2. Ass suckage. 

The plan diverted course because Chris liked to up the stakes in the moment, kind of like Gross-Out Improv. The stunt usually started out as a one trick pony. For example, touch the piece of poop, make people laugh. However, once the camera was rolling the poop had been touched, and Steve-o was starting to gag, that was then the brilliance began unfolding in the mind of Chris Pontius. Touch the poop, make people laugh turned into touch poop, _lick the poop_ , make people laugh. Make Steve-o Puke. Touch Steve-o’s puke, make people more laugh. He liked to think of himself as a kind of comedic genius in this fashion. He couldn’t think of this kind of stuff if you asked him, but once he was stuck in the situation, then he came up with pure gold. 

That was how it began. Chris’s Gross-Out Improv. 

“This is the Spotted Night Snake. A very secluded creature, the Spotted Night Snake is kind of a loner, and rarely attack humans.” Steve-o said to the camera, his arms crossed and barely concealed expression of contempt on his face. “These babies are said to have enough poison to kill a man, but only if they bite you. They only bite if you piss them off.” 

“ Today, Steve-o here is going to piss off a Spotted Night Snake. With his ass,” Chris added, already starting to break his intended mask of indifference with a stupid smile. Because Chris’s smiles were contagious, Steve-o followed suit in spite of himself. 

“Luckily for me, there’s an antidote. To combat the venom of a Spotted Night Snake, all you have to do is have someone suck it out,” Steve-o explained drolly. “Which is why I have Chris here. To suck the venom out of my ass.” 

Chris waggled his eyebrows at the camera. “Good thing I am so good at sssucking things.” he tried to sound like a snake, but instead he sounded like he was making fun of gay people. This happened a lot, but he figured since it was so clear that he didn’t have any problem with gay people, the mistake could be excused. 

“Let’s go present my ass to a snake!” Steve-o exclaimed, and then they cracked up, scampering away from the camera and towards the Spotted Night Snake, which was curled up innocently in a low to the ground blackberry bush. “That thing is huge,” Steve-o said, sounding dismayed. 

“They always say things are bigger in Texas,” Chris lisped, hopping up and down. 

Steve-o dropped trow, his white, hairy self exposed to the world as it so often was. He bent over, and waggled his ass in the face of the Spotted Night Snake, which seemed bored. 

Determined to make people laugh and get his mouth on Steve-o’s ass, Chris helped out by gently prodding the snake in the direction of its target with a stick, crouching down and cackling low in his throat all the way. 

Steve-o hated snakes, so he was making the noises he sometimes made that Chris liked. They were these high-pitched whining squeaking moaning noises, and they sounded really cute. Or, at least Chris thought so. Anytime Steve-o was legitimately scared, Chris got this warm fuzzy feeling in his chest. It made him want to curl Steve-o up in the blanket after the stunt and kiss his face until he wasn’t pissed off of scared anymore. Chris thought this was a perfectly normal way to feel about your friend. 

“Dude, what’s he doing? Is he going to--” Steve-o cut himself off with a shriek as the snake took its first strike, this one hitting somewhere on his thigh. It didn’t actually hurt, the snake was just bumping its head blindly and lightening fast on flesh without actually using its teeth, but this of course meant the teeth were coming soon. 

“Come on...” Chris mumbled, prodding the snake. “Scoot forward Steve.” 

“Uuuuggghhhhhhhhh uu huuhu I hattte him,” Steve-o whined. 

The snake, completely fed up with the stick in its butt and the butt in his face, struck again, this time nailing Steve-o directly on the right ass cheek. As its swung away, two pinpricks of blood rose to the surface before smearing under Steve-o’s frantic hands. He was screaming his head off, scampering away from the snake and incidentally, away from Chris. 

“Wait! The antidote!” Chris called after him, awkwardly running through the brush as the camera crew followed. 

Steve-o stopped long enough Chris could drop to his knees behind him. He grabbed Steve-o’s thighs, mouth immediately adhering without a second thought to the alarmingly swollen bite-wound on his ass. Steve-o kept on hopping around and yelping, but after a few seconds of Chris’s determined, firm but gentle sucking, he shut up. 

“I can’t believe you’re doing that,” he mumbled, turning around and looking at Chris over his shoulder. His face was flushed with pain, but there was a stupid, leering grin splitting it, almost as if he thought that Chris’s half of this stunt was worse than his. Chris spat a mouthful of tingly venom and Steve-o’s blood into the dirt, and shrugged, glad he preferred ass in his mouth to snake in his ass. This wasn’t bad at all. 

Because it wasn’t bad at all, he decided he had to up the ante. This was far too tame, just sucking Steve-o’s snake bite. His mind raced as he sucked and spat and sucked and spat. He hardly heard the laughter of the crew, nor Steve-o’s commentary concerning how much he hated the Spotted Night Snake. 

A light bulb went off. About two inches away, there was Steve-o’s asshole. By most people’s standards, it was probably a gross place. Chris didn’t think so; he’s been in close proximity to this place very many times before, and he found it to be about as offensive as a chocolate truffle. He’d stuck so many things in Steve-o’s ass before today, his tongue didn’t seem like such a gigantic leap. But he knew _other_ people would think it was. So without another thought, Chris pulled back from the snake bite, announced to the camera, “I think there might be some venom _in_ his ass, too,” and parted the crack. Then he dove in. 

Primarily, Steve-o tasted sweaty. He didn’t smell awesome, and the taste wasn’t quite chocolate truffle, but Chris has licked _actual_ poop during Gross-Out Improv before, so this was nothing in comparison. It was actually kind of pleasant. Steve-o let it happen for about three full seconds (of shock, most likely) before he freaked out and started to wiggle away, yelling “what the fuck!” as he struggled. 

The camera crew was cracking up, slapping their knees and dropping their equipment and crying and stuff. Chris started laughing into Steve-o’s butt, and those noises he liked started happening, the moan squeak shrieks. “Dude,” Steve-o choked out, through laughter that might have been nervous laughter. “What are you doing?!” 

“Making sure the venom is entirely out of your system,” Chris said with a fake Boy Scout voice. Then he took a long swipe with his tongue, from the base of Steve-o’s balls right up to his asshole. Steve-o jumped, lurching forward and almost stumbling out of Chris’s grip. 

“Cut, cut, cut!” someone screamed between wild, hooting laughter. “That’s _porn_ , you guys, we can’t leave that in.” 

“Chris, can you like, _keep sucking the actual venom out so I don’t die_?” Steve-o bitched. 

“Oh, right,” Chris giggled, getting back to his actual job. 

“This is probably so fucking unsanitary,” Steve-o grumbled. “And if I die, it’s all your fault.”

~~~~   
Back at the hotel room in Dallas, Steve-o came out of the shower with towel turban on his head, decidedly still alive in spite of the hefty bruising on his ass cheek. They hadn’t talked about what happened, so Chris assumed it wasn’t a big deal, although the cameraman’s observation on the pornographic nature of the act was kind of a wake up call. 

“You know, I think you took it too far, dude. That was like, a full on rim job,” Steve-o declared after be brushed his teeth. 

Chris shrugged from the bed, already showered and picking awkwardly at his acoustic guitar. “I thought it would be funny.” 

“I mean, it was. But it was also _ass to mouth_.” Steve-o unraveled the towel from his head and rubbed down his legs, one of which was propped up on the bed. Chris would see his junk, and he briefly wondered if that part of Steve-o also tasted as inoffensive as his asshole. 

“I didn’t think of it that way when I did it. It seemed like a good idea at the time.” 

“Our whole career is based off of ‘good idea at the time’, so I’m not going to give you anymore shit about it, I guess. After all, it did make me kind of hard.” Steve-o threw the wet towel at Chris’s face. 

Chris grinned, batting the towel away and setting his guitar down. A low rumble of a laugh escaped him, and he searched Steve-o’s face for inauthenticity. It was hard to find, and Steve-o wasn’t a great actor so he trusted that he wasn’t fucking with him. “Really? You’re into that kind of thing? Anal?” 

“I dunno. I never tried it. Maybe,” Steve-o shrugged, dropping down in the bed next to Chris. It should have seemed weird that they were sharing a bed, but miraculously, it didn’t. “Maybe I’m into anal,” Steve-o declared like it was a revelation, like he was trying the assertion on to test for truth. 

_Or maybe you’re into me_ Chris thought, because he was the other factor in the equation that could have let to Steve-o’s unexpected boner. He didn’t voice this, however, because if Steve-o laughed and said _yeah right_ it would have hurt his feelings. 

“I mean, no girl I’ve been with has ever really gone there. I mean, ass is great. I like fucking girls in the ass. I’ve never thought about having anyone fuck mine, though. I stick stuff in there for work too much, anyway.” 

“Maybe it was the tongue. Maybe you should experiment with rim jobs more,” Chris mused, trying to be helpful. 

“I think it’s kind of hard to find chicks who are willing to do that. So I guess it will remain a mystery.” 

A lightbulb went off. “I didn’t mind it at all. I’ll do it again if you want.” 

Steve-o gave him the weirdest look. His eyebrow was raised, his mouth very red and pouting and pursed. Chris liked Steve-o’s lips. He liked how pink and full they were, and he liked how they darkened when they got sunburnt or chapped. He was too busy focusing on this for his expression to change much and indicate to Steve-o whether or not he was being serious, so finally Steve-o had to just up and ask him, “Are you serious?” 

Was he serious? Chris Pontius was never serious. If he answered _yes_ to this question, he would be lying about the very nature of his personality. So instead he said, “Dude. I swear, I will totally lick your ass again. Pinky swear. I didn’t think it was gross at all.” 

Steve-O shook his head like he had water in his ear. “Dude, you are so _weird_.” 

“I like to think of it as open minded,” Chris said with a winning grin. His mind was working a million miles an hour. Suddenly, it felt like he _had_ to give Steve-O a rimjob. If he didn’t, it would be a failure of a night. His life _depended upon_ licking Steve-O’s asshole again. He stood up off the bed, and pushed Steve-O by the shoulders. “Come on. Lie down on your stomach.” 

Steve-O gave him an incredulous look, but clambered down onto the hotel bed anyway. “This is crazy.” 

“No. It’s science. We’re using the scientific method to test a hypothesis,” Chris explained, getting down on his knees between Steve-O’s legs, which jutted awkwardly off the bed. He placed his hands clinically (or what he hoped was clinically) on each of Steve-O’s ass cheeks, mouth already watering. 

Steve-O started making the noises before Chris even touched him. “Ah!” He kicked the air. “I can’t believe this is happening dude,” he snorted. He peeked at Chris from underneath his arm. “I’m weirdly okay with it, though. Probably because I’m drunk.” 

“You’re _always_ drunk. That’s your baseline. So maybe you’re okay with it because you’re _also_ open minded,” Chris threw out there. 

“Oh my _god_ dude, just do it before I freak out,” Steve-O yipped in a very coyote like fashion. Chris could actually see his legs muscles twitching up in apprehension, and his face was hidden in his arms. 

Fearing that postponing the act any longer would make Steve-O rethink whether or not is wanted Chris’s tongue in his butt, Chris took the plunge. Just as he had in the Texas underbrush, he leaned forward, carefully parted the crack of Steve-O’s ass, and gingerly licked the dark pucker of his hole. Steve-O tensed up and screamed. 

“You want me to keep going?” Chris asked, mouth still open and kind of drooling. 

Steve-O made an incomprehensible noise that wheezed with laughter. Probably nervous laughter. It wasn’t a _no_ , though, so Chris took it as a go ahead, and lapped at Steve-O’s ass again, this time deeper. He tasted clean and soapy from the shower, and it was even less unpleasant than before. In fact, it was downright _enjoyable_. He really went to town, holding Steve-O’s ass open for access and burying his face in the crevasse. 

Steve-O made a noise. A different one, a surprised, low grumble. “Whoa.” He said. 

“Good?” Chris said, both as a question and as a statement. He wanted to know if Steve-O felt good, but he also wanted Steve-O to know that _he_ felt good. It felt good to lick his asshole, it felt good to make his tongue wide and soft and lick the entire length of his crack, and it felt good to harden his tongue so he could push it past the ring of muscle and inside of him. The whole thing was _good_. It was almost like sex. His stomach was uncoiling with a familiar heat, like it did when he was turned on, which probably meant he _was_ turned on. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Steve-O said in a hoarse voice. He lifted his hips, clambering gracelessly onto all fours to further open himself up to Chris’s tongue. “Dude. You are making me so _hard_.” 

“Yeah?” Chris mumbled. He felt drunk, his head spinning and heart thundering. Without thinking, he reached between Steve-O’s thighs and and gripped a fist around his cock. Which was, indeed, hard. 

There was the feeling of hot flesh in his hand, and then time stopped. Chris thought for a moment that Steve-O was going to stop him, that this had officially crossed the line from one buddy helping another out to full on knowing in the biblical sense. He held his breath, hand jerking slowly up the length of Steve-O’s cock, and waited for it. 

Then the moment passed, and Steve-O was arching his back again, making those noises again. 

Chris let out a breath, and went back to licking. His jaw ached, and it was kind of difficult to maintain a steady motion with his tongue at the same time he jerked Steve-O off, but aside from these minor details, the whole thing was awesome. His own cock was straining against his boxers, and he could feel precum leaking out in hot, wet beads. He wasn’t sure if he was getting off on Steve-O, or getting off on getting Steve-O off. He guessed it didn’t matter, because those were basically the same thing. 

“Dude, jack me off faster,” Steve-O wheezed. Chris’s hand sped up clumsily, desperately, and Steve-O’s whole body tensed up. “Ah, fuck. Yeah. This feels fuckin’ incredible dude.” 

Chris was pleased that Steve-O was calling him dude, because it meant that he wasn’t fantasizing about some girl this whole time.(Unless Steve-O called girls _dude_ when they were fucking, but this was highly doubtful.) Steve-O was acknowledging Chris’s part in in his hard-on. Emboldened, Chris shifted his position and experimentally licked at Steve-O’s balls. 

Steve-O moaned a very obvious moan, and dropped his head onto his forearm. This was a good response, so Chris kept going, sucking one of Steve-O’s balls so hard he drooled into his palm, which made his strokes on his cock smoother, easier. He felt like he was pretty good at this. 

Keeping his mouth where it was supposed to be was becoming increasingly difficult as Steve-O became increasingly squirmy, snapping his hips and spasming under Chris’s mouth and hand. It seemed like he was close, but needed more. Chris was about to propose that he change positions and let him suck his dick, when the following happened: 

“Will you suck my dick?” Steve-O choked out, struggling forward and rolling over onto his back. His legs were splayed and his dick was sticking out, hard and bright red. Placing a hand on either inside of his inside thigh, Chris didn’t need to be asked twice. His mouth was over Steve-O’s cock in .7 seconds, the head of it smooth and too-warm at the back of his throat. 

“Ahhhh, gah, fuck,” Steve-O coughed, his legs kicking the air on either side of Chris’s head. Then his fingers were tangling in Chris’s hair, pulling him up and down the length of his cock, hips pumping hungrily into his wet mouth. “Gah fuck you’re like, _really good_ at this. You’re like a pro dicksucker,” Steve-O babbled unintelligibly. 

“Ifvvfe urur eeef duthiseeor” Chris mumbled, more unintelligibly. He was actually saying, _I’ve never even done this before_ , but there was cock in his mouth. There was cock in his mouth, and he liked it, so the fact he couldn’t talk seemed very superfluous. 

Chris managed to get one of his hands down his boxers and grip his own dick, which he fisted furiously in time with his tongue, which he was lashing mindlessly at the underside of Steve-O’s dick. Completely lost in the feeling of Steve-O filling his mouth, the come suddenly shooting down his throat caught him off guard. He had no time to contemplate whether or not he wanted to swallow Steve-O’s jizz before he was reflexively doing it, gulping snotty globules instinctually. 

Steve-O held Chris’s head down while he came, fingers digging into his scalp and his body spasming in erratic jerks. Something about being held down like that made Chris’s gut tighten and writhe, and then he was coming too, over his fist and onto the hotel carpet. 

He smeared it up his stomach as Steve-O let him go. How mouth was tingling as he pulled off, his eyes bleary with the haze of just having his face fucked. 

“Dude,” Steve-O said, hand still tangled in Chris’s hair. “I just busted a nut in your face.” Then he cracked up.

“It wasn’t that bad,” Chris admitted. “It was actually kind of hot,” Chris admitted further. His un-jizzed on hand was resting on Steve-O’s inner upper thigh, the tan knuckles standing out in stark contrast from Steve-O’s white, hairy self. He braced himself and rose to his feet before he collapsed beside Steve-O on the hotel bed. 

“Really? You were like, _up_ in my ass. Right up in there. You were like a piece of poop,” Steve-O snickered, palming his spent dick carefully before cringing at its sensitivity. 

“Fuck you, man,” Chris said, punching Steve-O in the arm. “You were the one who was _so fucking into_ having your ass licked.” Chris was fairly certain that Steve-O had been too absorbed in riding his own orgasm that he didn’t notice Chris’s. He wondered if that would change things. 

“I guess I am into that. It was like, _really_ damn good,” Steve-O mused. Chris stole a glance at him and he looked happy, naked and relaxed and sprawled all over half the bed. His eyes were kind of glassy, like he’d just taken a hit off a pipe. 

They laid there for awhile in comfortable silence, until Chris got restless. There was no camera, but his mind started doing the thing it did, racing faster and faster until it landed upon brilliance. He needed to stir shit up. This had been too easy, pushing Steve-O onto his back and making him come. He wanted _more_ than that. He wanted Steve-O to know that he came, too, while he was blowing him. He wanted to see his reaction at this bit of information. He wanted to _push_ things, he wanted to know _what this meant_ and _how much farther_ he could take it. How much Steve-O would allow him. 

So he sat up, leaned over, and kissed Steve-O on his so likably pink mouth. 

“Eeeeee!” Steve-O shrieked, though it was muffled between their two pairs of lips. He kicked the air and tried to wiggle out from under Chris, but Chris was heavier and pinning him down, and Steve-O was still weak from his first almost-entirely-anally-induced orgasm. “Ahhh what are you doing!?” He cackled, turning his head to the side. 

Chris studied him for a second, catching a glimpse of his wide dark eyes getting even wider and darker. Then he went back to kissing him, this time pushing his tongue past his lips and sweeping it along the roof of his mouth. The tongue that had just been in Steve-O’s ass, and on Steve-O’s cock. It was the perfect next move in Gross-Out improv. 

Steve-O wasn’t kissing back. He was trying to shove Chris off of him with increasing fervor. “Eeeew!” He finally crowed once his mouth was exposed to the air once again. “I can taste my own butt!” He was laughing, wheezing, kicking, but he wasn’t freaking out. Chris thought that was a good sign. 

“I’m trying to make this romantic. After all, I just tossssed your salad,” Chris explained between bouts of snorting laughter, his sss’s slurring like a Spotted Night Snake. His laughter weakened him, and Steve-O was able to push him off and roll him over, trading positions to he was the one pinning Chris to the bed. 

“You are so fucking weird. You are _so fucking weird_. Dude, is that your _jizz_ on your stomach?” Steve-O yelled, disentangling one of his hands from Chris’s grip to point at the sticky smears of white all over Chris’s half abs, half beer belly. 

“Yeah,” Chris said defiantly. He waited to see what Steve-O would do, how he was going to react. He thought this might be the moment that this _actually_ went too far, and Steve-O freaked out and decided it was all too gay. 

Instead, Steve-O grinned at him, narrowed his eyes to a dangerous slit of black, and dipped down to lick the trail of jizz off of Chris. Then he swallowed it, crawled back up, and with a hand on either side of Chris’s face, kissed him deep. 

Chris didn’t even try to fake disgust. He threw his arms around Steve-O and kissed him back, tongue thrashing its way inside of his mouth that tasted like come and vodka from three hours ago. They rolled around on the bed making out for awhile. Chris was totally into it. He thought that Steve-O might have just been doing it to prove a point, to prove that he was as tough and as gross as Chris. But then it kept going, until it slowed down and Steve-O was on top of him, giving him wet little licks into the corner of his mouth, eyes closed. 

“Dude,” Chris said, because this was getting confusing again. 

“What?” Steve-O asked, voice soft. He poked his tongue out, and touched the tip of it to Chris’s. “Are you going to even say anything? You were the one who _voluntarily licked my asshole_. In front of the camera. And then suggested we do it again. I have a get out of jail free card, dude. You can’t say _shit_.” 

“Shit,” Chris said. And they both cracked up.


End file.
